Twin's Children: The Wildmages
by Junipertree
Summary: Staged in Tortall's Twin, an extention of TT part 2. THIS IS NOT ANTI-DAINE!! Although it is not exacly mushy (understatement) Daine's children meet each other- with unexpected consequences... (in Carthak) Final chapters up!!
1. The Heir

Before I say anything: THIS STORY IS NOT ANTI DAINE!!!!!! Thank you.

Okay, so here is the little (maybe big) extension of TT (Tortall's Twin) part 2. You don't need to read that to understand this, though. In fact, don't read that, I have enough flames on that already. Umm, sorry, but I forget what Kaddar looks like and Morgen (drat that girl) has my copy of Emperor Mage (and my copy of The Realms of the Gods, and First Test, and $2.75… grr). I love this plot, if you don't then don't read it. On we go…

Disclaimer: I don't own any on TP's characters. Or places. Or things. Etc.

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Twin's Children: The Wildmages

Chapter 1: The Heir

Jaunne was on her hands and knees, scouring the wooden floors of her master's house. She hated her life. Most of all, she hated whatever god-forsaken son of a bitch that had dumped her off at a snotty woman's house. She had been left at this doorstep when she was a baby, it a basket with a yellow blanket and pillow that was embroidered with her name, Jaunne. She lived as a scullery maid, slave to that pompous Cook. If she could just use her magic… 

Jaunne had the Gift, all right, and it was powerful. But she hadn't the slightest clue how to manipulate the yellow fire inside her. Damn thrice over! Then Jaunne saw and insect, a little beetle skitter across the floor. She wasn't afraid of bugs, like those silly girls who screamed at butterflies. 

"Hello, shell-brother…" she whispered. His reply was the usual, hunting now, talk later. Juicy, foolish, ants in these parts, all alone. Jaunne didn't mind. She respected beetles; they had a sense of power that the other bugs didn't have. Ants, now, ants were soldiers. Their society was based on the military, scavenging, and battles. Spiders were cunning, with quick wits, and they could make good use of the eight legs they had. Every bug had its own personality, it's own nature, and Jaunne knew them like the back of her hand, if not better. 

"Hurry up with that scrubbing, girl!" Jaunne winced. "We want that floor CLEAN for the next visitors!" Gana, the owner of the bed and breakfast where Jaunne worked, was only a bit less harsh than a slavedriver. "With these tough times, we gotta keep the money moving!"

'These tough times' is what Gana called the time since the Emperor had been murdered. It was like a chain; his uncle had been murdered, and his father before that. Now a Regent ruled Carthak, and he loved his taxes almost as much as Ozorne had, before Kaddar. Most had liked Kaddar; he was irresponsible, but fair. There was no heir, at least none that anyone knew about. The Empress Veralidaine had run off when she was pregnant, almost eighteen years ago. For seventeen years Jaunne had slaved in this damned inn. They thought there was no heir. But Jaunne knew the truth. She remembered…

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Jaunne dashed through the alley, hiding around a corner as she saw the Emperor's slave carried litter. Jaunne could see his face, the strong jawbone, the green eyes, and the golden brown hair. Suddenly he saw her face around the corner, and halted the litter.

"Come forward," he ordered. Jaunne came forward, and gave him look for look, staring straight into his eyes.

"Father," she said so only he could hear. Kaddar laughed.

"You may be the daughter of that second-rate wife of mine, but to all them-" he waved a hand to indicate the city, "-You are nothing but a whore's bastard, who tired of you like some new toy. You are not the heir, just a silly girl fancies herself Empress. Move forward!" he commanded the slaves.

Jaunne clenched and unclenched her fists, grinding her teeth. She would have her revenge.

Jaunne hated her father. And her mother, who had abandoned her. She had felt it when Emperor Kaddar died; she had felt the ruling switch to her. But that Regent, that _usurper_ had taken the bloody throne. 

Jaunne finished the floor and went to Gana for further orders.

"Here, girl, take these coppers and get some bread, carrots…" she rattled off a list of items. "And if you take that money and leave me you'll wish you'd died as a child. Now go, girl, and be quick about it!" Jaunne scuttled off, strapping on her sandals as she rushed out the door. Once outside, she took the familiar route to the lesser market. There was anything a poor Carthaki could need at the market, and if you knew the people you could wheedle out better prices. She was about halfway to the market when she saw some young boys poking and prodding something. She disliked people who mistreated animals of any kind, and especially insects. A common pastime was for boys to catch a spider, and then pick off its legs one by one before squishing it. Jaunne saw what the boys were doing, and was furious right away. It was a black beetle, the biggest she had ever seen. They put it so it was on its back, then when it was finally on its feet again they'd push it over with a stick. 

"Herdan Jacer! What the hell do you think you're doing!" Jaunne yelled. 

"Oh, look," one taunted, "It's the Roach. Come to protect your subjects, oh Queen of Bugs?"

Jaunne broke his nose. She then moved to pick up the beetle and put it out of the way, but when she touched it there was a flash of yellowy-copper light, and she was almost blinded. When the spots faded from her eyes, she was looking up at a black beetle the size of a horse. She blinked again, and rubbed her eyes. No, it was still there. She hadn't shrunk; everything else was still the same size. The fact was that the beetle had grown, and grown to enormous proportions. 

"Holy shit," she whispered. "Did I do that?"

The beetle didn't seem malign; in fact it seemed rather friendly. Gently, carefully, it picked her up in its gargantuan pincers, and held her. After a little relaxation of the beetle's jaws and a slight pause, Jaunne realized he wanted her to climb up. So she did. It was fun, and much different than riding a horse. It was rather like sitting on a smooth rock that moved, its shell was hard and shiny. _Well, this is faster than walking,_ she thought. Some people who saw her gave her odd looks. Some ran away, screaming. Some seemed in their own private little world, and didn't notice a thing.

"Left," she said to her steed, and he obeyed. She rode him all the way to market, and as she went, a plan began to form. More than anything, Jaunne wanted to be Empress. But there had never been a female heir, ever. But she was of Imperial blood, and with this, power, this power over bugs, to make them big… she could have and army. She could fight- and win.

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Whee hee! I hope everyone likes this story, 'cause I love it! Love it! Looooooooove it!!! R/R, please! 


	2. The Halfling

Chapter 2 of this wonderful fic. Thanks to everyone who reviewed! 

Warning: The Halfling knows mostly swears. Expect bad language.

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Chapter 2: The Halfling

The girl walked down the hallway, meekly. If you could call her a girl. She was prodded along by the butts of the two men's spears, and frightened to death. She had no name. No one had the thought to give her one, and she didn't know to give herself one. She wore nothing at all. But what made you notice her, what made you want to swear by every god that you knew, was her wings. They had feathers of steel, forever untarnished. She looked fourteen, maybe fifteen, with ragged nails and matted hair. She had lived alone as long as she could remember, alone and hungry. Her teeth were human, except for four at the front that made her look like a vampire. But she was no vampire. The guards called her a Halfling; she did not know what that meant. She ate only little, now she ate her own fear. That was what she craved, she craved fear. Now there was none but her own to sup upon.

"Captain!" one of the men said. "We found this… thing alone in the forest. We caught it sleeping, and we would like permission to put it in the Imperial Menagerie."

"Permission granted. It looks like the bastard of a human and a stormsing. A creature like this would happen one in a million times." The Captain walked off to supervise other troops.

The girl was marched down isles of cages, cages filled with immortals. They were scared, the girl relished that fear, the fear of the griffins, the hurroks, the coldfangs, the unicorns. They were either drugged or half-mad with their confinement, they were not let out or fed. She was then pushed and prodded into a cage of iron, where she immediately threw herself against the barrier. A flash of red, and she was thrown back. The cages were magically protected.

People came to see her, they pointed and laughed, and they taunted. She did not understand them, but slowly she began to. Soon she had a small vocabulary, mostly of insults. Nobody had ever said anything else in her presence. The cages kept things from going out, not from coming in, and she was pummeled with rocks and poked with sticks. Finally she gave up, and sat at the back of her cage, silent. Soon they went away; not interested in this Halfling that did nothing.

But she was only half immortal, and slowly, but surely, she began to starve. You could count her ribs, and her cheekbones jutted out like the flags of a sinking ship. Finally one of the guards noticed and gave her a slab of raw meat, which she ate ravenously, her sharp vamp-teeth cutting and tearing into the food. She was fed once every four months or so. She lived this way for one year, maybe two. Alone.

She was sixteen before she escaped. A girl, about two years older than her, came in, riding on a giant black beetle. She would never forget that day. The woman on the beetle was dressed in yellow, with a gold cape. She wore a helmet and carried a sword, and wore also a chain mail tunic. On the back of her cape there was insignia a black hornet on a copper diamond. Behind her was an army, but not what you would think of as an army. Hundreds upon hundreds of ants, ants the size of ponies marched in battle formation, following the yellow banner the back of the beetle. 

The woman let all of the immortals out of their cages, and they joined the ants, to march in this army. The girl could not remember what happened next, only the rush of battle, of blood and gore. She ate half of what she killed; tearing mortal flesh and eating it while the owner was still alive. At the end, she sat down and feasted on the remains, not knowing whether to rejoice or to feel nauseated. She chose the former.

***

"Who, where from, and what are you?" The yellow woman stood over her, spear in hand. She could see hatred in that face, but it was not directed towards her. The Halfling pitied whoever was the focus of that hate. 

The Halfling's voice was raspy from disuse. "I not know who I am. I lived in forest. They call me Halfling. Bitch, who are you?"

The woman filled with anger. "Do you know who you are talking to? I am Jaunne, the Hornet Queen."

The Halfling laughed. "They call me bitch. They call their women bitch. If you are not bitch, then what the hell are you?"

"I am a woman."

The Halfling gave her look for look. "So, _woman,_ I know no other word. That is what they say to me, that is what they say to my friends. I am a bitch, whatever the fuck they call you." 

"Your friends?" she asked.

"My wing-brothers. The griffs. The unnes. The hurrks."

"What is your name?" 

The Halfling laughed again, a bitter sound. "I told you, I have no name. I am Bastard, Halfling, Slut, Monster, or whatever crap they feel like calling me."

Jaunne shut her eyes, as if remembering something. "I will call you Tekkiake. Come with me."

Tekkiake obeyed, rising to her feet. 

"You must have proper clothes," Said Jaunne, "And be cleaned up. We will take you to our baths."

Tekkiake was startled. "I see no others."

Jaunne smiled. "I am now the Empress. I use the imperial 'we'. I have not yet tightened my hold on other areas, yet. I have only taken the palace and the capital city."

"Took from who?"

The look on Jaune's face changed. "An usurper. You'll join the army, we trust?"

The change of topic was so fluid that Tekkiake didn't notice it. She had no idea what an usurper was, either, but she pretended she understood. "Yes," she said. 

Jaunne drew a knife. Tekkiake went immediately into the defensive, snarling. 

Jaunne pointed to the scraggly mess on her head. "We're only going cut off your hair. It is so matted it has formed into a single dreadlock." And in a single motion, Jaunne grabbed the end of Tekkiake's hair and cut it so her hair went down only to her ears. Suddenly a weight disappeared, Tekkiake's head felt light as a balloon.

"We think we can untangle what's left," she said.

Tekkiake was then pulled into the baths, wincing as hot water covered her. She nearly leapt out again, but Jaunne held on tight to her arm. There Jaunne produced a comb, and wetted Tekk's matted hair, then proceeded to unsnarl it. It took nearly an hour, and when it was done, the Empress then had a haircutter trim it even. Then she pushed Tekk into the baths again and scrubbed her clean. Tekk dried herself, but was baffled by the clothes draped over a chair for her. Jaunne dressed her in undergarments and breeches, but had some trouble with a shirt. She ended up just giving her a skimpy halter-top that fitted comfortably over her wings, which clacked nervously during the whole operation. The clothes felt weird. She felt- restricted. But Jaunne wrestled her into some sandals, and said finally

"You look- and _smell,_ much better now." Tekk looked at herself in the looking glass. She had never seen herself before except for the reflection in ponds. But what she saw here looked different. Clean. Sophisticated. She loved it.

Her short, wavy brown curls framed a soft face, and full lips. She wasn't tall, maybe five five. Jaunne saw the reflection in the mirror- and blanched. It looked like her. There were differences, like Jaunne's hair was blonde while Tekkiake's was brown, but they had the same build, the same shape of face.

"Tekk," Jaunne whispered, "Who was your mother?"

Tekkiake sat down. "I only remember because I am half immortal. Immortals remember everything, from the moment they are conceived until the day they die."

Jaunne waited. "I remember. I remember being born; I almost killed my mother. I wish I had. She was not big, not small. She had hair like mine, and she was not too old, probably not even twenty. She hated me; she hated me more than anything did. She thought she was an animal, she was mad. She starting cursing someone, Rikash, Rikash Moonsword. For seducing her. She ran a ways into the forest, and I never saw her again. Maybe she died. My father must have been a stormsing. That it why I am cursed as a bloody halfling."

Jaunne sat down next to her. "My father was Emperor Kaddar. My mother, the Empress Veralidaine, ran away when she was fifteen and pregnant. She bore me, and abandoned me to a lady at a tavern. I lived there for seventeen years. I met my father; he insulted me and said I would never rule. Then he was murdered. I escaped, and formed my army. But I will never, ever forgive my mother. Ever." 

Something in Jaunne's mother's name rang a bell in Tekkiake's head. "What did your mother look like?"

"I will show you," she said and waved a hand in the air. "I have seen her since, and have tried to kill her, but she is slippery. She is a wildmage, far more powerful than I. Though she has no Gift." A pool of yellow light interlaced with copper formed in the air, and a picture of a woman appeared. Tekk turned ghostly pale.

"That… is my mother." She said it with vehemence that would have wilted flowers. 

Jaunne turned to her half-sister. "Then we will fight for the same cause- to the death of Veralidaine Sarrasri." And she toasted Tekkiake with her wineglass.

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I told you this wouldn't be soppy D/N junk! Hee hee! To the death of Veralidaine Sarrasri!


	3. Weiryn's Chosen

Note: This story is not anti Daine. She's not as bad as in TT part 2, and I am in the process of forgiving her. No flames, please, I got enough in TT2 to last eight lifetimes. I just got sick of all that soppy D/N stuff. You know? You say Daine would never do such-and-such, I say TP's wouldn't, but my Daine WOULD. On we go, and thanks to everyone who reviewed…

I forgot the Disclaimer last time: I didn't create any of TP's stuff.

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Chapter 3: Weiryn's Chosen

He moved silently through the forest, slipping in and out of shadows. You could never see him clearly; he moved so smoothly and quickly. If you saw him clearly, on first glance he would look human. On second glance, you would know he was anything but. He had antlers growing out of his curly hair, and his skin had a slight green tinge. He wore only a loincloth of rabbit skins, his chest smooth and tanned. He was yet young, probably thirteen, but he moved with the confidence of one twice his age. He darted behind a tree; a deer emerged. 

Another deer came out of the forest. "Rowan!" It called.

The deer called Rowan followed his father lithely through the trees, not pausing a second. Rowan seemed like a deer; but he was not. His mother had been human, and he knew her name. He knew why she had mated with Oak, his father, and he knew why she had left as soon as he was born. He was the Chosen of the god Weiryn, his grandfather, and a wildmage. Not as strong as his mother, perhaps, but well enough for his own ends. He could turn into a deer and to his natural form at will and with ease, other forms came harder. He only used his magic when necessary, and it tired him. He was brought up by his father and his father's kin, but he had spoken with Weiryn and knew his true maternity. Weiryn was a lesser god and could only come on solstices and equinoxes, but Weiryn was friends with Ganiel, master of Dream, and his dreams told him much. But he felt alone, so alone…

He had friends among the deer: Holly, Maple, Spruce and Pine, but they knew only the simple pleasures of deer. His father was different, he was wiser and seemed more intellectual. But Rowan wanted to leave, he seeked something else, some more meaning in life than eating, sleeping, mating, and hiding from predators. Then he met Farrah. Farrah was… different.

***

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Narrated by Rowan…

The first thing I should say is that Farrah looks like a centaur, but she is not. She hasn't got the body of a horse, like a centaur, but the body of a deer, and the torso of a human. She is also mortal, she can die of old age, which does not happen to true centaurs. She calls herself a diataur, but she just made that word up. She is the only one of her kind. 

When I first met her she was running away from something, covered in scrapes and bruises, and scared to death. She lived the life of the hunted, with the constant possibility that tonight might be her last. She was chased by men of the Regent, who wanted to preferably capture her, or if they had no luck to kill her, stuff her and mount her on a wall. A remarkable specimen, they called her. Assholes.

I easily outwitted the hunters, and, drawing my small, recurved bow, shot and killed three of them. My aim is perfect; even better than my mother's, some say (***And that is damned good***). The other two ran away, their dogs barking and baying behind them, I did not pursue. 

"Are you all right?" I asked her.

She looked at me as if I was her savior, still panting heavily. "Thanks. Really, thanks. I Farrah."

"I'm Rowan." I held out my hand. She seemed unsure of what to do, so I dropped it. "What happened to you?" I asked.

She looked troubled. "I run. Hunters chase, they try to kill. I not know why, I not hurt them. They got me once." She turned to show a large scab in her human shoulder. "I run, I scared. Thank you."

What Rowan did next, he could never justify. She just seemed so scared, so he wanted to comfort her. Forming a picture of what he wanted in his mind, he turned himself into a diataur. It wasn't really hard, he could turn into a deer easily enough. But he had antlers, too, whatever form he took, he always seemed to have them. Even if he changed into something like a mouse, he still had little lumps of antler on his head. Except when he shed them in fall, of course. 

She seemed startled. "I only diataur. I alone." She looked up. "Magic?"

"Yes, I am a wildmage, even though not a strong one," He said. "my natural form was what you first saw, but I am just as comfortable as a deer. My father was a deer."

"My father was human," she said, "My mother deer. They call father halfwit, bastard. They say he stupid. He run away, not know hisself, he mate with mother. I only diataur."

Rowan nodded. "I take after my grandfather." He blushed. "My grandda was a god, on my mother's side. I look like him, Weiryn. My mother abandoned me. She went insane, she had so much magic she forgot she was human. She mated with my da. Then she started to remember, and she left. I don't know how I feel about her," he admitted. 

It was the start of a friendship. They, who thought they were alone, now had companions. 

They formed some plans, a lot of them were far fetched. By being with Rowan, Farrah picked up more language and spoke more fluently. They got around, and found out more about the country they lived in. The humans called it Carthak, and it was in war. The true heir, a girl, but the heir nonetheless, was in battle with the Regent, and she had a vast army of giant insects and immortals. The Regent, though, had the army of Carthak- the largest standing army in the world. Farrah and Rowan just watched and waited, wondering what would happen. They stood in the forests beside battlefields, watching the slaughter. They thought it repulsive, disgusting. How could you kill one of your own kind? There was enough trouble between species without fighting your own.

One human in particular caught Rowan's eye. She was clad in yellow, a beacon on the black beetle she rode. She fought savagely, without mercy for her foe. Beside her always was a strange woman with steel wings sprouting from her back. They shone in the sun, blindingly bright. But the two did not go unnoticed.

"Jaunne!" called Tekkiake. "There's somebody over there- in the woods!"

Now was the time for battle-pickings, collecting any usable armor and weapons from dead friends and foe, and collecting anything to bent or broken to be melted down and forged again. Giant termites had huge sacks that they filled with things: right hand sack for good, left hand sack for scrap. Various mortals and immortals, those with hands, took the things off the dead and then put them in the sacks. Then large spiders carried away friends to be buried, foe to be saved as fodder for the bugs. Any bugs that died returned to their original size, so there was no need to bury them.

Jaunne squinted harder at the trees. "There's something there, all right. We don't know if they're on our side or not, so let's go with an ambush, and don't kill them if you don't have to."

Jaunne drew her sword and took the route behind them, motioning for two of her men to follow. Tekkiake would surprise them from the front.

A burst of light, and the steel wing woman jumped through the trees, wielding a spear. She pressed it against Farrah's throat, while Jaunne leaped from the bushes and pinned Rowan. Her two men guarded both captives with arrows cocked, ready to fire. 

"Who are you and what are you doing on my lands?" Jaunne asked.

Rowan answered. "I am Rowan and this is Farrah. We are interested in what happens with humans, but we are disgusted with your wars." He said frankly. "We have no idea _why_ you would slaughter your own kind."

"Because it's war, boy, it's war,' whispered Jaunne. "You do it to overthrow the enemy, the usurper. You fight, and if you die you die. It is not glorious, not for honor. It is war."

"The enemy is the hunter," said Farrah. "The enemy is the one with the bow who shoots you. The enemy is the wolf he hunts you, but he is not evil. He is not bad. He needs to eat, like all creatures. Can you honestly say that you eat everything you kill here? Except for your machines of war, your insects, which you changed just to kill. Is this war?"

"This is war," Jaunne said, and sheathing her sword, she walked away. 

"Come," said the steel wind woman. "I am Tekkiake."

Rowan and Farrah hesitated. "Do we have to fight for you?" Rowan asked.

Tekkiake laughed. "No, we're just offering hospitality. I trust you'll accept?"

"I do not think they will welcome us," said Farrah.

Tekkiake turned serious. "Jaunne is not biased. She makes sure all are treated fairly. Look at me. I was abandoned in the woods by my human mother, my father was a stormsing who seduced her and then left her. I was then held in a cage in the Regent's menagerie, until her Imperial Majesty set me free. I owe her everything. She is my half-sister, I would give her my life, and she would give me hers."

Farrah and Rowan accepted, following Tekkiake to the Palace.

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I love this fic, I just love it. Please review, I want to know what you think! Spare me flames, a few are okay but a lot is just depressing…


	4. Orphan- or is he?

Chapter 4. This is going to be pretty long, so don't rejoice yet. Thanks to everyone who reviewed! A while ago a bunch of people pointed out in some fic that Ozorne was Kaddar's uncle, not his father. If I make any more mistakes like that, let me know and I might fix it when I get around to it. On with the show…

Disclaimer: I didn't create any of TP's stuff etc. etc.

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Chapter 4: Orphan- or is he?

Arandiall sat at the table, moving the spoon around his bowl of thin gruel. He was silent; so many took him for stupid, but he was not so. Aran was eight, but he looked maybe six, for all he was tall. His mop of shiny black hair got in his eyes, and he brushed it back. Finishing his scant supper, Aran left the table and went to his rooms. In there he had a small collection of animals, from rabbits to lizards. Nobody knew where they came from. Except himself, of course. It had started a while ago, maybe three years, when he first came to the orphanage. Children who vexed him mysteriously disappeared, and were never seen again. Aran had Wild Magic, but he called it the golden touch. Only his was different- he couldn't use it on himself. But he could use it on other people. Saturne was turned into a rabbit, Darshan a mouse, Gwendolyn a snake… the list went on. The orphanage didn't care, it was just one less mouth to feed. Sometimes his pets were gone in the night; a mouse eaten by a cat or an owl flew out the window. But Arandiall didn't care; he could always have more.

Aran hadn't always been in the orphanage, only since he was five. He remembered his mother and his father, though not too well. He took after his father, though he had little bits of his mother. They ware always moving, at some inn or tavern or in some dark alley, but they did okay. They were both mages, His ma had a thing with animals, his pa he remembered as the black and spark man. He would often do little tricks of juggling for Aran, and tickle him. He loved his father, he didn't know why they abandoned him, but they had, for whatever reason. Now he was alone.

Sometimes, he didn't turn people into animals. If they made him angry, he made them _think _they were animals. He didn't seem to care; he just did whatever he felt like. Sometimes he would disappear for days at a time, and then return without a word. But one time, he just left. He left, and he was gone for a long, long time. Finally the caretakers of the orphanage just gave up, assuming he was lost or dead. Nobody knew where he had gone, and nobody cared. 

He took with him only the clothes on his back and a little copper bracelet, one that he said his ma had given him. They didn't believe him, they thought he had stolen it. But no one could make him let go of it, and eventually they just gave up. Now he was gone, forgotten…

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That was short. But I can't stretch that chapter out any longer, that's as good as this one gets. No flames please.


	5. Meeting and Battles

This is going to get more exiting. Disclaimer. Yada yada. On we go.

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Chapter 5: Meeting and Battles

Jaunne stood over the opposing soldier, sword at his throat. The battle raged around her, the latest in her bloody war.

"Please…" he said. "I have a wife… kids. I only fight under his majesty's orders…"

Jaunne stuck her sword through his throat, cutting off his voice. They all say that, she told herself, they all have wives and kids… She went on to her next victim, blocking out her thoughts. _I can't think that… This is war._

Then it was over. The enemy had retreated, and Jaunne was left, shaking, over another man she had killed. Tekkiake saw her, and went over to her.

"Jau, is something-"

Jaunne fainted.

***

Jaunne woke to someone placing a damp cloth on her forehead. She was inside, away from the stench of death. _I did that,_ she thought,_ I did that to my bugs, I killed those men, my fault…_ She suppressed that, kept it down with a wall of hate. Hate for her mother, hate for her father. Hate for the Regent, the soldiers, and anyone who crossed her.

"I'm okay," she said, brushing the hand away and getting up. _Some things are better to forget._

*** 

Tekkiake was worried. Jaunne wasn't being herself. In battle, she was becoming more and more ruthless, she took no hostages. Enemy men wounded on the battlefield were killed, even if it was something so minor as a broken arm, or simply unconscious. Jaunne blocked her out, only talked to her to give orders. She was swift. Brutal. Every day, more closed. But Tekk just shrugged it off after a while, maybe Jaunne was just busy. Anyone would be busy, commanding an army. And there were more important matters at hand.

A little boy, eight or so, had appeared at the steps of the Palace just a day ago, he looked so cute, so harmless, and the guards had let him in. The Cook met him, and instantly began to stuff him full of sweets. 

"That's a little schnookums," she said. 

Tekkiake saw him, walking down the hallway, and noticed him immediately. This boy had power- real power, and only barely trained. He had Wild Magic, but it was dull copper, somehow different. He also had the gift, he'd be a great warmage if he ever had the incentive to use it. Which he hadn't. Tekk, in full battle regalia, went up to the boy and asked him his name.

He looked her straight in the eye, and told her softly, "Arandiall."

Tekkiake saw something in his eyes, somehow he looked familiar… But she shook the feeling off. "I'm Tekkiake. I wanted to talk to you because you have magic, strong magic, and you need to be trained."

"I already know how to use it. I look at someone, I think what I want, and they turn into the People. If they're nice, sometimes I turn them back."

Tekkiake shivered. _Sometimes?_ Good thing she could protect herself from this child. She had magic too, though she hated using it, it felt like she was cheating, or something. 

"Who are your parents?" she asked.

"They abandoned me. I know who they are. I might tell you sometime." He said it in an offhand kind of way that bothered her.

They had been walking while talking, and by now they were in the common room. Tekkiake sat on a couch, lifting her wings up a bit and then putting them down so they went behind it. She patted a spot on the couch beside her. "Sit down. What's your name, and what can you do already?"

"Arandiall. I can turn people into animals, anything I like, or make them think they are an animal. I can turn them back, but I can't change myself."

Tekk thought. Wild Magic that applied to other people? It was possible. But how on earth did he get such magic, and the Gift? His parents must have been strong mages. Suddenly a thought went through her that made her blood run cold.

She clutched his arm. "Arandiall, was your mother a wildmage, a strong one?"

His brow furrowed. "Wildmage?"

"Someone who is good with animals, who can turn into them and talk to them, and heal them."

Aran thought a bit. "Ma could do all that, I remember. Sometimes I would play with her People friends."

Tekkiake turned even paler. "What was her name, Aran, I need to know."

"I remember she never wanted me to call her ma. She said it made her feel old. Nor Veralidaine, she said she never liked her full name-"

Tekk dropped his arm and ran out of the room, steel feathers scraping the doorframe. 

*** 

"Jaunne," said Tekkiake, gasping for breath. "Daine- if she died, it was no more than three years ago. A boy, eight, said he could just remember his mother- named Veralidaine."

Jaunne dropped her wineglass and it shattered on the floor. "Holy shit- do you know what this means? She's still out there, and still the slut she ever was."

Tekkiake nodded grimly. "Yes, only this time her taste's changed. She's hooked up with a human this time. I bet he takes after his father. Tall, dark eyes-"

"- black hair?" Jaunne finished. Tekk nodded again. "That would be her lover. She killed him, brought him back to life ten years later so they were closer to the same age. Nuts. Before that, he was about fourteen years older than she was. They call him Numair Samalin, a great mage, he is. Used to be Arram Draper, was wanted by wazzizname- Ozorne, for escaping and going to Tortall. He's been wanted for nearly twenty years."

"No wonder," said Tekk. "Arandiall- the boy- has the potential to be a great warmage. He says his parents left him in an orphanage when he was five."

There was a look of disgust on Jaunne's face. "Just like her- like getting tired of a new toy. Bitch."

"I wonder, though, is he telling the truth?" Tekkiake pondered. "Is he just a spy for them, trying to get their hooks into us? I wonder... Better ask Rowan." The two women left and walked briskly out the door. 

*** 

"Well, it's possible. He probably is her kid, you can see the resemblance." Jaunne, Tekkiake, Rowan, and Farrah were gathered together in a room, talking about the Latest calamity. Rowan was speaking. "Mother never had much of an attention span, and I think he's telling the truth." 

Through talking about their pasts, they had realized that Daine was Rowan's mother as well. "I think we should tell him about her- hey we could start a club." Rowan grinned. "Daine's Children: The Wildmages. Exclusive membership."

Jaunne snorted. "Rowan, you have too much of a sense of humor for your own good."

"Excuse me for trying to lighten up the party. Anyways, as I was saying, he also needs to be trained. He seems like the type who uses his magic as he sees fit- whether or not it's at others' cost."

Heads nodded, that made sense. They came to an agreement, and Arandiall seemed to be eager to learn. Jaunne included him in their conversations of conquest, and their endless search for Veralidaine Sarrasri. 

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Waddaya think? I am going to add some romance in, I think, it always spices up a story. Just so you know: That's it. Daine doesn't have any more kids. Just Jaunne, Tekkiake, Rowan, and Arandiall. What's the deal with Farrah? Well, that's where the romance comes in… R/R!

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	6. Farrah

Welladay! Isn't this fun? I just love writing this story, just love it…

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Chapter 6: Farrah

Only a fool could not see it. But they didn't. Oh, yes, you could see it in the way Rowan spent more time as a Diataur than in his natural form, the way he seemed to be reciting soppy love poetry over and over in his head. You could see it in the way Farrah acted like a proper and polite lady, in the way she laughed at his lame jokes. Jaunne thought it was disgusting.

"It's repulsive! And the most ironic thing is that the only people who don't know they're in love is themselves!" Jaunne recited her litany to Tekkiake one morning. "They spent more time mooning over each other than they do working! It's a disgusting waste of time!"

Tekkiake's face was emotionless. "Since when were you anti-love?"

"Since when were you pro for it!?! You're half stormsing, Tekk, you're supposed to not give a damn about how other people feel."

Tekkiake suddenly looked angry. "If I didn't care how other people felt, then why the hell would I be helping you? Why the hell wouldn't I seduce Rowan and every fucking male in this Palace before laughing my ass off at you all, and flying the hell out of here? Why wouldn't I just say, 'screw it all!' and not even give a shit about what happens to that slut of a mother of mine? Maybe you should care more, your Imperial Majesty!"

And with that odd display of temper, Tekkiake opened the window, changed into hawk and flew away. She usually didn't do that, she hated using her magic. Tekkiake had power over any animal that flew, including immortals. Her outstretched wings catching warm thermals, she tried to relax. But she couldn't help thinking about how Jaunne's words had hit home. Every minute was a struggle, trying to defy herself. Jaunne didn't, couldn't, know the cravings of her stormsing blood. She wanted to do exactly what she had described to Jaunne, just surrender to her nature and not give a damn. But she did care, that was the problem.

The only way to let it out was through fighting. Battle. But even then, her human nature balked, wanted to throw up all that damage she'd done. Tekk didn't understand Jaunne's bloodthirstiness, that passion for war. Trying to defy herself, every day, every hour, every minute, every second- it took half her energy. She would give all her powers, all her status, even flight… she'd give all of that up just to be human.

*** 

**__**

Narrated by Farrah

I don't know if he likes me. If he cares. He'd probably like me even less if he knew my past. My mother is a whore in deerskin. My father… well, to put it politely, he's a bit simple. More frankly, the village idiot and a blubbering dunderpot. All my life I've been hunted. They wanted me for some collection, like the Golden Fleece or something. I can't run as fast as other deer because my human torso is not only heavy, it isn't the best for aerodynamics. They also think it's a great (and only, I hope) opportunity to see a woman's chest bare. But come on, do you know how silly I look with clothing? I have no problem with going au naturel. Stormsings do it. Centaurs do it. I'm just another half man, half beast thing. 

Back to the point. Jaunne's against me having any interest in Rowan, it's obvious, but that's just Jaunne. She's got quite a trail of men following her around, and some of them really like her, they don't just want to marry her and be Emperor. She acts like they don't exist. Sometimes I wonder if she realizes…

*** 

**__**

Normal Narration

"Okay, Aran, what you do is visualize it. You have to make a firm picture of it in your head, and believe it's going to happen. You have to _want_ it to happen. Try seeing that pebble just crack down the middle. No explosions, nothing violent. Just crack it."

Tekkiake was teaching Arandiall the use of his Gift, while being overseen by Jaunne. Tekkiake didn't actually have any Gift, but she was better with children than Jaunne, so she was put to his teaching while Jaunne advised her.

A little boom, and the pebble spoken of was split in two, the pieces flying in two different directions. 

"Good, Arandiall. Now-"

Tekkiake was cut off by a tired and bloody messenger running up to them at full speed.

"Your Imperial Majesty," he panted. 

"Speak," she commanded.

"Yes ma'am. Soldiers- the enemy's, attacking. Treachery. They're attacking the secondary base."

"How many?" Jaunne snapped.

"About eight hundred, all told." He was nearly collapsed from exhaustion.

Jaunne pushed him out of the way, making a brisk pace towards the Palace.

"You there- Captain Kenderl- start plan 5A. Archers spread out- in bloody trees if you have to. Spearmen in the front ranks- wedge formation." Jaunne was jogging now, almost at a run. 

She already had her normal battle gear on, all she had to do was don her chain mail tunic and helmet, as well as her yellow cape that marked her as the Hornet Queen. Buckling her sword belt on, she stuck two daggers in each of her sleeves. Going out to the insect corral area, she mounted her favourite, a massive black beetle almost the size of an elephant. 

She went at a beetle's version of a gallop- arriving at the secondary base in less than an hour. Spotting her troops, she rode to she front yelling a blood-curdling war cry, causing her soldiers to attack with renewed vigor, cutting the enemy in two. She jumped off her beetle and waded into the fray, attacking all who dared strike her. A spiked mace swung over her head; she ducked and ran through the attacker. In the fight she lost one dagger to a horseman, giving him a stab when her sword was tied up with another. He staggered back, taking the dagger with him. 

Then she saw one face; time seemed to freeze in place. She saw the brown tresses swaying in the breeze, escaped from under her helmet. The soft eyes, the cruel smile. The woman saw her.

"Mother?" she said weakly. "Why aren't you with the archers? You were really good at that, and couldn't fence if your life depended on it…" Jaunne realized that she was spouting nonsense.

Her mother pulled off the helmet, a figure of beauty. "So, we meet, daughter. It seems not long ago that I made love to Kaddar and produced a spiky, yellow-haired babe."

"I vowed to kill you."

"Who wouldn't? Since you obviously had my warrior spirit, and we both failed to kill our greatest enemies. I remember, so long ago, I found that odious uncle of Kaddar- Emperor Ozorne, as it were- guilty of a whole pile of shit- but I could never kill him. I was weak."

"Oh yes, weak enough to have affairs with a stormsing, a deer, and that bloody boyfriend of yours," Jaunne spat. "You fucking killed him- and sweet-talk him with your smooth words into believing that you love him." 

"Numair was trusting," she said thoughtfully, "But not wrong. I do love him, you know that? I never wanted to marry Kaddar. It was a marriage of state."

"What about Tekkiake?" Jaunne demanded. "She's going to be hurt all her life because you screwed a fucking stormsing and then abandoned her."

Daine laughed. "Jaunne, my dear girl. Do you really think I could resist the seductive powers of a stormsing? No, I think not. I was half-mad at the time, and fully mad by the time I met that stag. I have so much more Wild Magic than you do, childling, far more than that repulsive thing you have with bugs. It invaded my self, I forgot I was human."

"Then what about me? Why did you abandon your child? And for crying out loud, why did you abandon Arandiall after taking care of him for five years?" Jaunne was breaking down.

"Girl, you know so much, and yet nothing at all. You were the heir, do you think I would risk you to Kaddar? He would use you, if he ever found me. I was young, Jaunne, I was yet a teenager. As for Arandiall… Do you know how dangerous his Wild Magic is, along with his Gift? Aran is… evil. He drives people insane, just on a whim. I would have killed him, except for that bloody sentimental Numair wouldn't let me. Maybe because Aran takes after him." She paused. "I did what was right, and you know it."

Jaunne was furious. "How could you, you _bitch_! He fucking loved you, he is your _child,_ from the man you supposedly loved! I bet he cried himself to sleep every night, then built up a wall around himself, never letting anyone close, just so he would never be hurt like that again!"

Jaunne was shaking from rage, color mounting in her face. "Die, bitch! Die like the scum you are, the mother that abandoned me! I hate you! _I have no mother!_"

Jaunne lunged forward, catching Daine unawares. Her sword went straight through her stomach, and out the other end. Daine looked surprised, glancing down at the blade in her belly. Then she smiled. Only someone completely insane would smile. Daine dropped to the ground, and Jaunne stood up, holding her blood-covered blade. She barely even noticed when a spear stabbed her in the back.

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Ooh, isn't that nice! I think that is one of the best pieces of writing I have ever done… Remember, R/R!


	7. Sorrow and Redemption

Wow, this is the longest thing I have ever done, and it's going to get longer… Thanks for the reviews!

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Chapter 7: Sorrow and Redemption 

Jaunne lay on the stinking battlefield, a spear stuck in her back. She didn't care anymore; she just lay there and let it bleed. Her troops had lost, she was dying, and now only gore-crows remained. And Tekkiake. 

Tekkiake picked her way among the dead, searching for the telltale yellow cape. _Goddess, please let Jaunne be alive,_ she begged. Then she saw Jaunne. She looked like she was aged twenty years, by her pain and sorrow. 

"Tekk," came the hoarse whisper. Tekkiake immediately kneeled down by her sister's side, pulling the spear out and wincing as it began to bleed freely.

"Don't." she said, "I'm dead already."

Tekkiake ignored her and proceeded to rip strips off her sleeves to make bandages. They were soaked in minutes.

"Don't try, Tekk. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for… everything. Oh, gods, I killed her, Tekk, I killed her in cold blood…"

Tekkiake's eyes widened. "You killed… Daine?" she ventured.

Tekk saw the lines on Jaunne's face, her red and swelling eyes. "I killed my mother, Tekk. I committed matricide. I saw her face, right when I killed her. She loves me, Tekk; she wanted to protect me from Kaddar. Oh, gods, Tekk, what have I done?"

Jaunne cried. "All for nothing, Tekk! We lost, it's all my fault." Suddenly she turned urgent. "Tekk- tell them. Tell Rowan, Aran, tell Farrah. Tell them not to fall into hate, like I did. There's no room for love. Tell them Tekk, tell them not to hate like I did…"

Too late Tekkiake noticed that Jaunne had slit her wrists, and she was slowly bleeding to death. "No," said Tekkiake. The one who had given Tekk her name, who had accepted her as they united for a common cause.

Jaunne pushed her away with what little strength she had left. "Let me die."

"No," Tekkiake said. "You can't die, I can't live without you…"

Jaunne was silent. Tekkiake waited, waited still, beside Jaunne's unmoving body. She waited as the enemy guards took her, almost dragging her away. Suddenly she straightened.

"Wait," she said. "I can make this very hard for you. Even without my magic my wings could still slice half of you to pieces before you defeated me."

The guards listened. "So I will strike a deal with you. I will go, willingly, and be locked in a cell. I will not attempt to hurt any o you once inside and locked in. In return you will give me a harp. A good harp, will all the strings in good condition and the wood uncracked. I will keep this in my cell, and none may harm it or take it out of my possession. Clear?"

The guards shrugged, and talked among themselves. Finally they came to a conclusion.

"Ah, sure, strange lass. Ye can have me old Bess. Ah had it since me own lass gave it t'me years back. Wait, a minute."

Twenty minutes later he was back with a fine harp, worn, but fine nonetheless. Tekkiake took it with the greatest care, slinging it over her shoulder. She offered her two arms, and the guards took them as well as her abandoned spears. Cloth sacks lined with mail were tied over her wings, to stop her flying away as well as to keep the feathers from cutting anybody. Slowly, solemnly, Tekkiake was marched into the recaptured palace, unresisting. She was taken to the lowest dungeons, cells that smelled of rot and mildew. She compliantly sat in a cell, closing her eyes and weeping.

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That was kinda short, I know. But that's a good ending spot for this chapter, doncha think? Pretty sad, huh? Remember… R/R!


	8. Voicing Song

Umm, I bet you are all wondering why Tekk did that

Umm, I bet you are all wondering why Tekk did that. Truth to tell, I don't know. But she has to end up in the dungeons with a harp for this next part to work, and I couldn't think of anything else! So shoot me! Oh, PS. I copied a bunch of stuff for this one, and it's not mine. Sorry this chapter took so long! Credits at the end, I don't want anyone guessing what the stuff is. Take another note: I used ":" for showing that this certain animal is talking, because I can't put it just in italics because that's what I do for thought. I've also been reading too much Mercedes Lackey.

Disclaimer that I keep forgetting: I didn't create any of TP's characters, they all belong to her.

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Chapter 8: Voicing Song

Tekkiake sat in the cell, unmoving. The guards weren't sure she was alive, but they had orders to guard the cell and watch her at all times. So they did.

Tekk sank deep into a well of despair, neither speaking nor eating. That was just as well, since the guards gave her no food. She did not know what had become of Rowan, Farrah, and Arandiall, and didn't care. She just sank farther into her depression, occasionally plucking strings on her harp. It was almost two months before she attempted to play it. 

Once she made an attempt to play it, it seemed to awake something in her. She asked for food, preferably meat, and she ate the little meat that was on the bones they gave her, and then cracked them open for the marrow. They thought her mad; somehow she didn't care. When she played the harp she didn't forget, but she could let go of all the pain she had been carrying these past few months. She had never had lessons, but slowly, bit by bit, she learned the rudiments of music. It wasn't really like learning something; but more like remembering something after a long, long time.

The one man assigned to guarding her cell was entranced by her singing. It was a voice so soft, so pure, and accompanied by the harp it was simply ethereal. Her songs were sad, painful, mourning. It was a song of friendship lost, of death and pain.

The guard was left almost in tears. It was like she meant every bit of it, like she had experienced it not once, but many times and felt it every time. 

"Lass," he said, "Stop. I canna stand such music, it's enough to drive a body to tears."

Tekkiake stopped, looking up at the guard. "It is truth. The truth can be painful." She returned to her playing. If anything, it seemed as if she was mocking the man, singing songs of a soldier's glory so sarcastically that only an idiot would not see it. 

Long hours of playing made their existence clear. Tekkiake suddenly realized that she had some kind of gift for playing. Perhaps it was her stormsing heritage, and the stormsing's ability to seduce anyone with its song. But whatever Tekkiake sang, it induced a mood of whatever the song was, whether it be a jig or a romantic ballad or a lament. She particularly enjoyed the laments.

__

"Cold as death, death-bearing

Stay and die, unguided

Brave and braving, linger

This way was twice decided."

"Stop it!" said the guard. "I canna bear any more of this! Every time ye play that bloody lyre-thing of yers, I retreat it tears! Have some compassion for your fellow man!"

Tekkiake looked up coldly at him. "If you said that purple pigs were flying past my face you might be less true than the statement you have just voiced. I am not a man; I am more a woman. I am not even entirely human; my father was a stormsing. I do have far more compassion than you think, elsewise I would not be singing songs of love lost. How can one who has no compassion mourn for losing it? I am singing for myself, not for you. If you don't like it, then get lost." 

"How can I get lost, ye feathers-fer-brains! If I left me post, th'Regent'd have me hide! I ain't getting' paid fer listnin' t'ye wail!"

Tekkiake returned once again to her harping. "That is your predicament, not mine. I have rights to play this harp, so deal with it." 

The man was stunned by her frankness. Then again, if she was part stormsing as she claimed, he was lucky that she wasn't trying to seduce him, or spouting a long string of curses bad enough to wither plants. So he gave up.

*** 

**__**

Meanwhile…

The young dragon Skysong lurked about the Palace, seeking the kitchens. _Dammit, _he thought, _cooks all over the place. I hate invisibility spells._

A soft whistle was all that was voiced, and Skysong was scurrying through the kitchen with no one the wiser. _Stupid mortals. Haven't enough wits to fill a teaspoon. Even that second-rate so-called keeper of mine. She ran off with that Light Inside mage-man after getting herself married _and_ pregnant. Idiot._

Long years of scrounging and abandonment made Skysong bitter. _She even made up that stupid nickname for me. "Kitten". Kitten! How demeaning! I was young and ignorant enough to fall for it._

That thought alone would make a full grown dragon chuckle, as Skysong was barely twenty years old. But he had grown into a lot older in the past decade. He had cast a forgetting spell on himself, even if someone saw him they would forget immediately. He whistled locks off doors, among other useful talents. And he always knew when magic was about. He had been lost, forgotten, all these years, but he still roamed the palace, living off rats and food stolen from the kitchens. Suddenly, Skysong halted in his path. A haunting music floated in his mind rather than his ears, calling to him.

__

Brethren to my soul

I conjure thee:

By stream and starlight,

By sun and shadow,

By song and storm wind,

Show me thy tale!

By the darkness of the stone's heart,

By the silence of the sea's tears,

By the whisper of the sky's breath, 

By the dawning of the star's flame,

Do as I will thee!

Power of water, wind, and earth,

Turn the spell back to its birth,

Raise the fire to free the lord,

By the power of wood and sword.

The song pulled the young dragon into a trance, following the magic. It called him down into the darkest dungeons, the smell of rot and damp assailing his nostrils. He squirmed through the bars of a cell, and finally the spell let go. So did his illusion.

Tekkiake opened her eyes to see a pair of slitted green globes looking at her. She didn't move a fraction of an inch.

:_You called me_:said the dragon. :_I am Skysong. What do you want?_:

Tekk narrowed her eyes. "I sang. You came. That's your problem."

:_You used a spell of calling. You have magic in that voice, human. You also have Wild Magic. I have long-standing grudges with one who has magic like yours. A certain brown-haired bitch with a stork-man for a boyfriend._:

Tekkiake's eyes widened again. "You mean Daine? Don't worry, lizard-bat, she's dead. Jaunne killed her." She looked away, tears threatening to fall. "Then she died."

He rolled his eyes, if that was possible. :_My deepest condolences, Daine-daughter._:

Tekkiake just stared. "How did you know?"

:_I know some things,_: he said smugly. :_And that is one of them. Jaunne was your step-sister, I know. Now, how did you get yourself locked away down here?_:

Tekk related the whole story to him, and he listened. 

:_Interesting,_: he said. :_I think we can strike up a partnership…_:

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I love it! Oh, and the credits. The first song was by Anne McCaffrey (rhyme from Dragonflight) And that song that Tekkiake summoned Kit with was actually a combination of rhymes from _Talking to Dragons_ by Patricia Wrede. It actually went "Sword of the Sleeping King, I conjure thee:…" but what does the Sword of the Sleeping King have to do with this story? (***Totally irrelevant- I constantly kept saying the "Sword of Stephen King". I never could say it right!!***) I just wanted to find something that sounded deep and mystical. 


	9. Bargains with a Dragon

Onward and upward… Or is it upward and onward

Onward and upward… Or is it upward and onward? Well anyways, here goes!

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Chapter 9: Bargains with a Dragon

__

:…So all you have to do is play that harpy of yours, and boom! The door opens. Remember to do an A minor chord on the upper octave. The higher, the better, and it helps if you sing.: 

Kitten, or Skysong, was explaining the mechanics of magic through sound. _:I do it with whistles and croaks, you can do it through singing and playing. Got it?:_

Tekkiake nodded. _:Then let's bust outta here!:_

Tekkiake plucked an A minor chord, and the lock burst off the door. _:Not bad, for a beginner,: _Skysong commented.

Playing continuous Bb major diminished sevenths, Tekkiake and Skysong tiptoed, invisible, through the hallways. Up the stairs, up to… where?

Tekk was lost. She found herself in some kind of laboratory. She had had to practically blow the lock off the door, it glowed and melted into a pile of goo on the floor. In the middle of the room was a cauldron, filled with some kind of yellow-green liquid. It wasn't bubbling, and it smelled _delicious._ Like apple cider or spiced wine or roses or… 

She walked up to the cauldron, and bent her head over it. Her good sense told her to stay away, but her nose said _drink it drink it DRINK IT!!!! _Skysong clambered up onto a stool, and perched on its rim, swaying.

"Whoa, careful, there, Skys-"

Skysong finally lost his balance and fell into the pot, spraying Tekk with droplets of the liquid. Then the entire tripod and cauldron collapsed, and it was everywhere. Skysong floundered about, inhaling and swallowing practically gallons of the stuff. When the commotion was finally over, Tekk was holding a sopping wet, unchanged, Skysong.

"Well, I guess it was just some kind of drink-" Tekkiake was cut off again. 

Skysong was growing. He got bigger, and bigger, and bigger, until he filled the room. He stuck his now eight-foot-long neck out the window, breaking the glass and the stone and mortar around it. Tekkiake felt herself growing a bit, but not nearly so dramatically as the dragon had.

Skysong forced his body out the window, crumbling the wall. He stayed there, hovering with his gigantic wings. 

__

:Ha ha! Yes! I'm bigger, stronger- I'm twenty centuries old, Tekkiake! Come! We'll fly away!:

Tekkiake picked up a shard of glass and looked at her reflection in it. In her surprise, she dropped it and it shattered on the cement floor. The face looking back at her was the face of a thirty-year-old woman! Looking up, Tekk saw Skysong, and with her harp in her arms, she opened up her wings, shooting after the dragon into freedom.

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I know that was short, but I think that is a good place to end that chapter. Remember- review!


	10. Tekkiake's Journies

Well, now

Well, now. Think. Thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiink. I got it.

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Epilogue: Tekkiake's Journeys

Tekkiake and Skysong traveled north, to see the fabled Tortall. Tekkiake grew famous as an amazing musician, while Skysong enjoyed ravaging northern villages and making people scream. He didn't kill too many, though, he said humans tasted gross.

Carthak continued to decline under the reign of the Regent.

Rowan and Farrah disappeared.

Arandiall will be mentioned further, he's not gone yet.

Tekkiake's story is not quite over.

To remind you all: Jaunne is **dead**.

A/N I know quite well that jaune means yellow in French. Est-ce-que tu penses que je suis un idiot? Je suis dans l'Immersion Francais! L'idee de "Jaunne" a origine de le mot jaune, parce-que le cheveux d'elle est jaune, et le magique d'elle est jaune aussi. 

Please excuse my grammar. And spelling. And the fact that I haven't the slightest idea how to put in accents with this computer. Translation: do you think I'm an idiot? I am in French Immersion! The idea of "Jaunne" originated from the word "jaune" (yellow) because her hair is yellow and her magic is yellow as well.

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This will be kind of continued in Twin's Children: Faeya. It's about Faeya. How did you guess? That is an extension of TT part 3. I might even make an extension of TT1…


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